


Undercover revelations

by Ellestrade



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, It's For a Case, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 04:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12674316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellestrade/pseuds/Ellestrade
Summary: Sherlock has returned from the 'dead'. John has unresolved issues with Sherlock. A case presents itself where the two must go undercover in order to solve a disappearance in a couples counselling retreat.  Working through their issues they come face to face with whats really bothering them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic sat around on my laptop for months now, so thought i should probably get round to publishing it! It's non season 3 and onward compliant just fyi :)

Sherlock took out his gun and aimed it at the wall, squinting, he was aiming for the piece of dirt just to the right of the light switch that so often irked him.

  
“Mrs Hudson won’t be happy with you if you blow another hole in her wall” John commented without looking up from his laptop. John saw the disdain pass through his friends face, he was lying across the sofa like he always did when he was bored. Sherlock lowered the gun for a fraction of a second and then shot anyway. The deafening blast echoed throughout the room, the distinct squeal from Mrs Hudson the floor below and a sudden submerge into darkness forced John to jump to his feet.

  
“Was that really necessary Sherlock?” his voice was raised

  
“Nothing’s ever necessary” Sherlock replied bored “Tell Mrs Hudson when she comes up that she’ll need to call in an electrician” He pulled his dressing gown tighter around himself and rolled over facing the backrest.

  
“Tell her yourself” John grabbed his phone and his jacket and stormed out of the flat

  
“Child” Sherlock shouted after him.

  
He did indeed pass Mrs Hudson on his way downstairs as she was heading up to their flat.

  
“What on earth happened up there John?” She Squeaked “It scared me half to death”

  
“Ask Sherlock” Came Johns short reply before storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him as he went. He was fed up of Sherlock’s moods.  
It had been three months since Sherlock had returned from the ‘dead’, it was taking John longer than he thought it would to completely forgive the man. He was sure he wasn’t quite there yet. It made things worse when Sherlock complained of his boredom, it made John recount all those days he was on his own, when Sherlock was away. That was boredom. That was worse than boredom, because it was mingled with grief. Every time Sherlock complained about his ‘so called boredom’, John fought with his words, it would do no good to convey those thoughts to Sherlock, and no doubt it would only rile him up more.

  
It was these days, when Sherlock was in a mood like that, that John wished his friend had not returned. It was only a fleeting thought though, as soon as it crossed his mind, a wave of guilt so severe passed through him, a sick feeling bubbling in his stomach, and the sudden need to hold on tight to something. No, he would never wish for Sherlock to disappear on him again. At that thought he turned around and headed back to Baker Street.

  
Everyday Sherlock had been gone, John wished nothing more than for his friend to return, to solve one more case with him, to laugh unacceptably at one more crime scene, to feel alive again. However, for someone that had wanted Sherlock to return so much, he was showing none of those feelings now. The anger he felt would often get the better of him, and he would storm from the flat, walking the streets of London, trying to calm himself down.

  
He let himself back into the flat, Sherlock had not moved, nor did he acknowledge John as he walked into the still pitch-black living room. Anger bubbled inside him once again, but it soon disappeared as he remembered the countless times, during Sherlock’s absence, that he had let himself back into the flat to complete darkness. Sherlock had not been there those times, John was alone. Yes, the man might frustrate him to high heavens and back, but that would do nothing to stop the surge of warmth that coursed through John at the sight of Sherlock back on the sofa.

 

The electrician had arrived a few days later to repair the wiring that Sherlock blew out. John couldn’t have been happier to have the normal lights returned and have the candles put back in the cupboards, the lighting was making things far to romantic. All he’d have to do would be to look over at Sherlock while he was working on something, his face illuminated by the candles to get the familiar surge of warmth spread through him at the sight of his best friend being back where he belonged.

“It’s been too long since we’ve had a case john, why has there been no murders?” Sherlock whined. He lifted the gun off the coffee table and aimed again.

  
“Oh no you don’t” John warned “Not when we’ve only just got this light fixed, I don’t want you shooting through a water pipe or something!”

  
Sherlock snorted his reply “Get me a case then John!”

  
“It’s only been a week Sherlock!” John replied, “Some of us went two years without a case, didn’t hear us complaining, oh no!”

  
“A week too long!” Sherlock threw the gun across the room, he acted as though he had not heard John speak, John wondered if he had actually heard him or not, it thudded against the wall but at least there were no casualties to the flat this time.

  
“You’re a bloody child when you’re bored! Find something to do, the world doesn’t revolve around people getting murdered you know!”

  
“Oh, that’s easy for you people with your tiny minds, finding something to occupy those minute spaces is effortless. Try being me for a day!”

  
“Well why do you have me around then, if my tiny mind is so unimportant to you, why am I here!” Johns voice was raised, he could feel the rage surfacing again and tried to bottle it down “why did you bother coming back?!” He couldn’t stand there any longer. Sherlock’s face staring him down, he knew he couldn’t see what he had done wrong, he never did. John did what was becoming his habit, grabbed his coat and jacket and stormed from the flat. He heard Sherlock shout his name, but ignored it. Stomping down the stairs now who’s the one acting childish he thought dryly to himself. Muttering and cursing under his breath he stormed through the front door, slap bang into Lestrade.

“Danny O’Brien went missing six days ago, his wife reported him as missing after the second night he didn’t come home or turn up to work, where he’s the co-owner of some couples retreat. The local police were informed, who were insistent that with him being a grown man, and it only being two days, that they weren’t investigating. There were no suspicious circumstances surrounding his disappearance, the only thing they said they would do would be to keep their officers on the lookout for him. The manager and wife were, however, insistent with the police that there were suspicious circumstances as this wasn’t at all like Danny’s behaviour.”

  
“No” Said Sherlock “Boring. Goodbye Lestrade, close the door on your way out” Sherlock was back lying on the sofa. The initial excitement he had felt when John returned up into the flat was short lived once Lestrade had got into the details of the case.

  
“It’s not that bad, it’s a case, isn’t it?” asked Lestrade “Gives you something to do aside from shoot out the flat. Listen, the wife hasn’t stopped pestering her local force, they can’t spare anyone to look into the disappearance and now they won’t stop pestering me. I thought I’d actually come to you first this time rather than getting someone else on it.”

  
“I’m not surprised that they can’t spare anyone, sounds awfully dull. Don’t know why you think I’d be interested George”

  
“Greg” Muttered John quietly. Even that managed to get Johns anger bubbling, even though it was undoubtedly just Sherlock being Sherlock. John thought, seeing as though what Sherlock had put everyone through when he was dead, that he would be a little more aware, but no, that was Sherlock, he was never aware of the things that actually mattered.

  
“Look, Sherlock I know it’s not the most exciting case there is, but it’s something isn’t it. Besides being out in the country, getting away from London will be good for you” Lestrade continued as though he hadn’t noticed Sherlock’s mistake, though maybe he just didn’t notice anymore “For both of you” he added glancing over at John

  
Sherlock seemed to deliberate for a moment before answering “Fine, but we’re doing this my way.”

  
“Sherlock, you always do everything your way, whether or not you should be or not!” said Lestrade

“Yes, well. I just don’t want you interfering. I’ll go undercover of course; people are more likely to talk to you when they don’t know why you’re talking to them. I’ll go to this retreat see what I can find out about this Danny from the staff there.”

  
“You’re going to look a bit strange going to a couples retreat on your own Sherlock” Greg replied, “I’ll have a word with some people off the force, see if I can get one of those to go undercover with you, that way you’ll have an officer with you in case there is anything funny going on.”

  
“Someone from the force?” Sherlock scoffed “You know none of them will work with me!”

  
“No, they won’t” agreed Lestrade “But it’s a couples retreat so you’re going to need someone”

  
Sherlock looked over at John.

  
“No, absolutely no way. This is where I draw the line!”


	2. Chapter 2

“Sherlock, this is ridiculous!” John moaned pulling at the neck of his jumper “This jumper is ridiculous, I look ridiculous, you look ridiculous, this whole situation is ridiculous!”

“Oh, stop moaning” Sherlock replied, eyes fixed ahead on the road, “In the glove box there’s a document I compiled of all the details of our supposed relationship, why don’t you read up on that and stop complaining”

 John huffed and sighed but opened the glove box never the less, sighing when he saw the size of the document. At least 10 pages long, groaning again when he noticed it was front and back. He had no idea how on earth Sherlock had managed to compile this much information about their supposed relationship, but dutifully he began to read.

 Once John had agreed, for some unbeknown reason to man, Sherlock had set to work, first of all ringing the retreat to see when the earliest they could visit. Luckily, or rather unluckily in Johns opinion, they had had a couple cancel leaving a free slot for the very next day. A weekend visit on their ‘save your relationship in just three days’ programme specified for making even the ‘most spoiled relationship harmonious once more’. He had then disappeared out for the rest of the day, leaving John at the flat wondering if the whole situation could get any worse.

The very next morning, the situation did indeed get worse. Sherlock appeared in the living room, not his usual looking self. John had to do a double take once he saw what the detective was wearing. His usual mop of curly hair had been slicked back into the most absurd looking ponytail John had ever laid eyes on. High on the back of his head, the shorter hairs that hadn’t quite reached the band were falling loosely (straight John might add, he didn’t even know Sherlock’s hair could do straight) around the back of his neck. If the ponytail wasn’t bad enough on its own, when it was accompanied by the ray ban glasses perched on his nose, the denim jacket, tight fitting black t-shirt worn underneath and the camel coloured Chinos, it was enough to make anyone laugh out loud. Which John did, for ten minutes straight, much to the annoyance of Sherlock.

“What _are_ you wearing?” he finally managed once his laughter had subsided, though his mouth couldn’t stop grinning at the sight of him. He was putting the grin on his face down to the fact that Sherlock looked downright bizarre, but that didn’t explain the strange fluttering sensation that he was feeling in his stomach at the sight of him.

“Think of it as my costume if you will, John!” Sherlock answered utterly unfazed “we’re going to be undercover, did you _really_ expect me to wear my obligatory suits and belstaff, good gracious John, I thought we had passed all your stupidity!”

Johns grin faded, of course there would have to be a Sherlockian insult thrown in with that “Well I stupidly thought that being as we are going to be in the middle of nowhere, that we wouldn’t be recognised, stupid me!” said John getting to his feet and heading towards the stairs.

“We need to get going, change into these” Sherlock said thrusting a bag into Johns unwilling hands “Don’t worry about packing, I put together a suitcase for you”

“Right” grunted John as he headed up the stairs, not daring to think about what Sherlock had considered to pack for him. He also didn’t want to think about Sherlock going through his underwear picking out what John should take, because that also bought back that feeling to his stomach and an unmistakable flush beginning to work its way up from his neck to his face.

“Oh, try and do something different with your hair as well” Sherlock shouted after him to the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut.

Flicking on the light, John emptied the contents of the bag onto his bed picking up the items, examining them with horror one by one. He didn’t need to put the jeans on to know that they were going to be tight. The jumper next, grey polo neck, he knew would frustrate him no end. The studded collar, distressed look, leather jacket didn’t even warrant a comment. He changed into them cringing at the way he looked in the mirror.

“Stop fussing with the jumper!” Sherlock said looking at John from the corner of his eye “You need to look like you always wear clothes like that, fidgeting with the neckline is not appropriate behaviour of someone who dresses like that all the time!”

John merely just scowled at him, continuing to read the information Sherlock had compiled. Which turned out to be as ridiculous as everything else.

“This really doesn’t seem too difficult for me to remember Sherlock” John commented after reading though the first set of notes “In fact ‘meeting though a mutual friend whilst flat hunting’ is exactly how we did meet; do you really think I am that stupid that you needed to write it down for me?”

“No John” Sherlock answered, “I wrote it down, because we both need to be one hundred percent certain on every aspect of our relationship, that list is shrouded in the truth so that it seems more viable coming from our mouths, that way, if we are asked a question we can draw from those real experiences to give our history more credibility”

John just grunted his reply.

It was silent for a while, John occasionally bringing up something from the document which was met with Sherlock’s short reply.

“ _We have a healthy sex life_ …” John began reading out loud “… _That is one of the few aspects of the relationship that doesn’t need work, we try to have sex at least once a day. Even when we’ve been arguing, we can never deny each other in the bedroom_. What bullshit is this?” John didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Though thinking back over it, not long after Sherlock had returned, John had ended up getting so mad at the consulting detective for being so utterly blasé about the whole being ‘dead’ situation. He had wanted very much to pin him up against the nearest wall and tell him damn straight, every damned thought that had been through his head whilst Sherlock was gone. Even in his head though, the thought of Sherlock pinned up against the wall had stirred something awake inside John, and rather than shout himself silly at him, he had found himself wanting to close the distance between them, touch their lips together in a heated passionate frenzy. That time he hadn’t stormed from the flat he had stormed up into his room, trying unsuccessfully to push the thoughts of kissing and doing much more to Sherlock from his mind. It had resulted in a very quick angry wank, justified by the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a while and pushing someone up against a wall like that, whether it was in your mind or not, were bound to illicit those responses in a man. So yes, John could quite easily see how he couldn’t deny Sherlock, even when he was angry.

“Of course, we have a healthy sex life John, look at us both, dashing men” Sherlock drew his lips up into a small smile “I could have gone into more detail about just how healthy it was, but I refrained” A small part of John wished that Sherlock hadn’t refrained, he wished in fact that he had gone into much more detail about their imaginary sex life, just so he would have had an excuse to think about it.

“Right, well, I’m sure they won’t want us to go into such details anyway” John hoped out loud folding up the sheets of paper and putting them back in the glove box.

“We’re nearly their John, are you ready for this?” Sherlock asked.

“No” John grimaced.

“Well, are there any rules you’d like to put in place before we arrive?” Sherlock asked carefully, clearly, he did still have some human understanding left in him.

“Like what?” John asked

“Well we will be spending three days pretending to be a couple in front of a group of people, having to act as a convincing couple in front of said people. Is there anything that couples do that you don’t feel comfortable doing with me?”

Johns mind whirred. What a question.

“We’re a couple in trouble though aren’t we, we don’t have to act couple-y, no one will be expecting that” John answered, thinking he was being clever.

“Did you not read my information? We have a healthy sex life; I believe these people we are playing would seem like a couple in public. So, for example hand holding allowed?” Sherlock was asking John as though he was asking for an opinion on a shirt.

“Ermm” John thought about it, holding hands with Sherlock, could he do that “Okay, but not all the time, I’m not much of a fan of holding hands anyway”

“Good. What about small touches, hand on an arm, on your back as we walk” Sherlock carried on.

Johns breath seemed to get caught in his throat before he could answer “No, ermm, yes that’s fine” his voice was quieter than it normally was. Was he okay with that, he wasn’t sure? He supposed he would have to be, he had agreed to this debacle, he would try very hard to act as though he was in love with Sherlock.

“I should mention as well that you shouldn’t call me Sherlock while we are here, it is too recognisable, not a usual name, I’ll go by Shaun, its similar, easy to remember, you can stay as John. Johns common enough.” Sherlock said

“Of course, because if you called me anything other than John I’d have no idea who you were talking to and just wouldn’t reply, I’m clearly just that stupid.” Another burst of unexpected rage from John and as usual Sherlock didn’t reply. The rest of the journey was quiet, John had a right mind to tell Sherlock to just forget about the case and turn back around. But before john got a chance to say anything Sherlock was pulling into the long drive that lead up to the retreat. It was really rather a picturesque landscape, the English countryside always held an air of breath-taking beauty.

“Well John here we go”


End file.
